


Itching to Be Yours

by TheMightyFlynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clueless Harry, Fade to Black, M/M, Multi, Slow Build, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 13:24:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14379561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/pseuds/TheMightyFlynn
Summary: It had always been assumed that only two people could share in a soul bond. Of course, anything with Harry Potter involvedhasto be complicated.





	Itching to Be Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [humanveil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/gifts).



> Dear snax0, I just adored your prompts! I, obviously, chose your threesome prompt to write. I enjoyed writing this so much, so I hope you enjoy what I came up with!  
> My never-ending thanks to my amazing beta as well! Thank you for yelling at me when this sucked! You’re a life saver!  
> And to the mod, who was so very nice and understanding! Thank you!

“‘A soul bond between two magical beings is a sacred thing. Bound by ancient charms and traditions made true, it is unbreakable ‘til death by any outside force. Any witch or wizard who attempts to break a soul bond will find themselves suffering under unimaginable pain.’”

“Well, this sounds… cheery.”

One of Severus’ eyebrows rose towards his hairline at the interruption. Glancing up from the book he was reading aloud from, he met Draco’s eyes.

“What, precisely, were you expecting? Unicorns and butterflies?”

Stretching out on their bed, Draco raised his arms above his head and arched his back. He was grinning when he caught Severus’ eye again.

“You took care of any troubles I would have with unicorns a couple of years ago.”

Severus rolled his eyes before returning to the book.

“‘Soul bonds may only be sealed as the clock strikes midnight on Beltane. There is no limit on when they must be sealed, but most beings insist on them being sealed as soon as possible. This is in order to make sure that their mate does not suffer needlessly if they must be separated for any length of time.’”

“I see the theme of suffering is to continue.”

Severus ignored him.

“‘Wands of hawthorn and ash are useful in the casting of the rituals associated with Beltane and the bonding spells. The two must pass through the Beltane fires in order to seal their bond…’” He skipped forward a few pages, searching for the end of the chapter which would, hopefully, give him the information he was seeking. “‘No one being is permitted to tell another of their connection, if the soul bond is true. The ancient magical energies that form soul bonds do not allow for this. The second half of the bond must be discovered naturally, if it is true and able to be sealed… Once a soul bond has been recognised by both sides, they must register with the Ministry of Magic. This makes it easier to keep track of just which parties were involved in the case of an illegal break attempt… The magical energies produced during the ritual will attract many different magical beings… Spells must be cast correctly, or else the bond will be only half-sealed… Take care to not touch the Beltane fires…’ Rubbish. Complete and utter rubbish.”

Snapping the book closed, he slammed it down on the desk beside him. The sheets rustled as Draco moved, although Severus did not see it. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Severus.” Draco’s tone was soft, gentle. “We _will_ work it out.”

Draco’s hand came up to brush through Severus’ hair. It was a comfort that he thought he did not deserve, but that he allowed himself to take anyway. Leaning into the touch, he let out a sigh.

“There is nothing in any book about a soul bond forming between a triad. Nothing.” He followed the pressure of Draco’s fingers when they pulled him forward, towards Draco’s chest. “We do not even know if he knows what is happening to him. Or if he feels anything at all.”

Severus leant to rest his forehead on Draco’s chest, enjoying the stroking of Draco’s fingers through his hair. He sat silently for a few minutes, allowing Draco to soothe away the stress he had placed himself under that day. When Draco spoke again, it was in the same soft tone as before.

“We know Potter senses _something_ around the two of us. I believe that the question will be whether he has the brains to recognise it for what it truly is.”

Unable to help it, Severus let out a hollow chuckle. “Considering the fact that apparently the only reason he passed his NEWT’s is due to Hermione Granger’s interference, I cannot dare to hope.”

He pulled back when Draco let out an amused sound. Staring up into Draco’s grey eyes, all kinds of memories flashed before Severus’ eyes. He had spent three years in St. Mungo’s, recovering from his injuries. For two and a half of those years, he had been unconscious; placed in a magical coma by the Healers. The first memories Severus had as he woke slowly from that coma of Draco. Sitting by his bed, reading aloud from periodicals, sharing bits and pieces of gossip; Draco had been there for him from the moment he was conscious enough to recognise him.

The connection they shared had become clear to Severus slowly. At first, he had thought it was just gratefulness for Draco’s company, but as he recognised the symptoms, it was clear: they shared a soul bond. It had started with an ache in his chest when Draco left for the evening. Severus had put that down to the injuries he had suffered during the war. Then, it was an almost constant itch until he was back in Draco’s presence. When his fingers began to twitch with the need to reach out and touch, he had known it had to be true.

He had tried to deny it at first because Draco was, after all, twenty years his junior. It had taken a certain amount of audacity on Draco’s part, however, to force Severus into fully acknowledging their connection.

“How about you lie on the bed and I’ll help you to forget all about unsealed bonds and useless books?”

Draco’s eyes sparkled with the promise his words held. The hand in Severus’ hair slid slowly down to squeeze the junction of his neck and shoulder. It caused Severus to roll his shoulders. Reaching forward, he ran his fingers along the waistband of Draco’s trousers.

“Do you have something specific in mind?”

Draco grinned. “Oh, I could go into detail, if you really want me to. I’d much rather not spend too much time speaking, though…”

Severus’ hands moved from the waistband to grasp Draco’s arse. Pulling, he tugged him closer, to stand between his legs.

“I am not opposed to some improvisation.”

They were the last coherent words either of them spoke for the next few hours.

*~*

Harry’s skin itched. No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t his skin, precisely, but maybe… He shook his head and rolled his shoulders. Annoying is what it was. It had been a regular occurrence for about the past year, perhaps. No Healer was able to tell him just _why_ he itched. Or whether it was a true itch, or something psychological. Shaking his head again, he tried his best to ignore it.

“Three fingers of scotch, Harry!”

“You see that Russian vodka there…?”

“Four Butterbeers and an ice water, please.”

Harry grinned. Friday nights were his favourite time to work, sad as that may seem. His bar was always extremely busy Friday nights, distracting him from the normal worries and stresses of the day. He bustled around, filling orders and taking payments. Dodging around Maryann, his hired barmaid, he leant over the bar to grab some coins from one of his regulars.

“Looks like it’ll be sort of cold for that Beltane party you want, Harry,” the man shouted over the band. “Still going ahead?”

“Yeah, of course,” Harry yelled back with a grin. “If I have to be here working, why not let others enjoy the night as well?”

He continued on dodging Maryann and taking orders, grinning at his regulars and listening patiently to the newcomers who seemed a little star-struck at being greeted by ‘ _the Harry Potter_ ’. Honestly, Harry had not expected this to be where his life was taking him. At twenty-three years of age, he had expected to be settled with Ginny and happily producing the next generation of Weasleys while working in the Auror Department. That life had hit a little snag, though, once Harry had realised that Ginny lacked a certain appendage that he found rather important in a partner. His life was better as it was right at that moment. Serving beer in Diagon Alley was definitely not his original idea of a happy life, but he had discovered that he quite enjoyed it. Besides, he figured as he looked out over the crowds, this had its advantages.

“Last calls!”

Heads snapped towards him. The sound of people scrambling through coin purses and wallets reached his ears, causing Harry to grin. The next half hour consisted of a rush of people, each of them determined to either grab the last bottle of Ogden’s on his shelf, or to catch one last glimpse of Harry himself. A giggling group of girls approached the bar, some of them clearly having had too much to drink. Harry offered them a small smile when they pushed one of them towards him.

“Can I help you?”

Even in the gloom of the club, he could see the deep blush that stained the girl’s cheeks. She refused to meet his eyes, instead speaking to the bar in front of her.

“I, uh… Butterbeer. Six. Please.”

Harry offered a sympathetic smile as he placed her order on the bar, despite knowing she couldn’t actually see him. “Here you go.” He pitched his voice low, trying to not startle her in case she didn’t realise that he had returned. “Twelve sickles, thanks.”

The group of girls behind her giggled again as she handed over the money, still unable to meet Harry’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Harry shook his head as he turned away to deposit the money in the register. Girls like that had become a regular occurrence when he had first opened the bar. They’d dropped off over time, but some still liked to come and treat him like a tourist attraction. It had annoyed him at first, but Hermione had pointed out that they were all paying customers. As long as he thought that way, Harry didn't mind it so much.

People slowly began trickling out as the night wore down. By the time the band stopped playing, there were only a few of Harry’s diehard regulars still propping the bar up.

“Alright, boys,” he called to the three men still leaning on the bar, his voice still a little too loud after listening to the band the entire night. “Time to head off. I’ll see you all later.”

He sent Maryann home as well the second the door closed behind the last customer. Sagging down into one of the booths, Harry let out a deep sigh. The itch had returned as soon as he had become less distracted by the rush of people. Sliding down further into the soft seat of the booth, he rubbed his shoulders against the leather, satisfying some of the need to scratch. He knew that scratching this itch was probably a bad idea. Hell, the Healers had told him to not scratch it, just in case he accidentally made it worse. But what else was he supposed to do? Just sit here and suffer? He froze when the sound of the door opening reached his ears.

“We’re closed for the night!”

“I don’t care if you are closed or not, Potter. Get off your arse and get me a drink.”

Unable to help it, Harry grinned. “Get it yourself, you lazy sod.”

The sound of a pair of bootheels clacking on the wooden floor reached Harry’s ears, followed by a series of mutterings. He could have sworn he heard the words _paying customer_ before he shoved himself up into a proper sitting position.

“How long has it been since I made you pay for a drink, Malfoy?”

“It’s the principal of the thing,” Draco responded immediately, his tone haughty. “I, unlike you, am not a barmaid. I should not have to be serving drinks.”

Harry rolled his eyes. It had been about a year, he thought, since Draco had strolled back into his life, dragging Severus with him. As apparently expected of him, his relationship with the two of them had been… Well, Hermione insisted on calling it ‘complicated’. Ron termed it ‘bizarre’. He tried to not think about it, himself. The very fact that he had developed a sort-of friendship with not only his school rival, but also said school rivals’ partner – who just so happened to be their ex-Professor – nearly did his head in when he gave it too much thought. Add the fact that he seemed to be somewhat attracted to _both_ of them into the mix and, well… Harry shook his head, clearing it of the thoughts. There was no point in dwelling on something like that. Draco and Severus were very firmly together. There was no changing that, and Harry was not about to try. Reaching behind himself to rub one of his shoulders, he sighed.

“What kind of drink do you want?”

There was a beat of silence before Draco spoke. Harry could just imagine the smug smirk on his face, prompted by the fact that he thought he had won.

“That green bottle up there looks interesting.”

Harry turned. Draco sat on one of the stools, his elbows resting on the bar. Following his gaze, Harry spotted the bottle of expensive Dragons’ Breath Firewhisky he had been saving for a special occasion. He let out a snort.

“Not a chance in hell, Malfoy.”

“You asked what I wanted–”

“And you chose wrong.”

“–and I responded with a perfectly reasonable request.”

“You know how expensive that Firewhisky is, right?”

“Of course.”

“And you just want me to _give_ it to you?”

Harry watched as Draco shifted in his seat. “I have been your faithful customer for close to a year now, Potter.”

Shaking his head again, Harry pushed himself out of the booth. “What you have been, Malfoy, is a faithful pain in the arse.” He grinned when that comment finally made Draco turn to glare at him. “What have you done with Severus? He’s usually not that far from you.”

It wasn’t until he got closer that Harry noticed Draco’s flushed cheeks, slightly mussed hair and the fact that he was sitting rather awkwardly on the stool. Images flashed through Harry’s mind, all suggesting various reasons – and positions – Severus may be running a little later than usual. None of them were thoughts he wished Draco to know about. Lowering his gaze to the floor as he made his way behind the bar, he hoped that his blush would be hidden from Draco by the dull lighting.

“He has done nothing with me.”

Harry jumped and spun, Severus’ deep voice startling him enough that he stumbled. “Geez,” he muttered, placing a hand over his chest. “I should attach a cat bell to your collar or something.”

The _look_ exchanged between Draco and Severus had Harry smiling as he turned back towards the back of the bar. He reached into the cooler and pulled out three tumblers and a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky.

“Ogden’s shall suffice, yes, Harry,” Severus responded to the question Harry had not asked. “May I suggest that we adjourn to a booth rather than sit at the bar? I find it much more comfortable.”

Harry did not miss the grateful look Draco shot Severus as he stood from the stool. He also did not miss the slightly awkward way in which Draco moved, or the hand Severus placed on the small of Draco’s back. Something strange washed through him at the sight, but he pushed it aside. He passed the tumblers out and poured a finger into each. When Draco delicately cleared his throat, Harry raised his wand and Summoned a couple of ice cubes, only remembering that Draco preferred his whisky on the rocks with the reminder. 

They passed the time making small talk, for the most part. Draco and Severus ran an Apothecary down one of the side streets from Diagon Alley, and Draco always had stories to tell of the customers they attracted. Some of them sounded downright scary, but others Harry would have paid to see Draco interacting with, like the witches who brought their children with them and allowed them to scatter Draco’s precious ingredients all over the shop floor. By the time they had finished their respective drinks, Harry was feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Leaning back against the seat, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

“Long day?”

Harry smiled. It was always Severus who asked about his day; he even managed to sound interested, as well.

“Fridays are always long. I’d only just closed up when you two arrived, so I haven’t even counted the takings yet.”

Stretching his arms above his head, he flexed tired muscles. When he re-opened his eyes, it was to see the pair of them watching him. Suddenly self-conscious, he lowered his arms and dropped his gaze to his hands, which he folded in his lap.

“Maryann’s good, though. She’s been a big help on busy nights like tonight.”

Silence followed that little comment. Harry could sense the tension building in the air, but had no idea how to stop it. Or even what had caused it. Shifting in his seat, he scrubbed a hand along the back of his neck before glancing up.

“So,” he began, wanting to change the subject, but unsure exactly which topic to choose. “Beltane’s only two weeks away.”

If the scowl that crossed Draco’s face was any indication, he seemed to have hit on exactly the _wrong_ topic. Harry blinked rapidly as Draco’s brows drew down and his top lip curled. His eyes flicked automatically to Severus, who gave a minute shake of his head.

“You have to forgive Draco’s rudeness, Harry. Beltane is not a favourite holiday of his.”

The conversation seemed to die out after that. It had been a few months since he had accidentally managed to either embarrass or insult Draco due to his own ignorance of wizarding traditions, but this time he could not work out just what the problem was. Beltane was a pagan holiday that even Muggles could celebrate. But Draco would not be drawn back into the conversation. He spoke very little for the rest of the night, leaving Harry and Severus to discuss the latest gossip out of the Ministry. When he stretched and declared himself worn out just after one, Harry did not object. He saw them to the door and made sure to lock it behind them. Crossing over to the bar to finally begin counting his takings for the night, he was so distracted by Draco’s reaction to his mention of Beltane that he didn’t even realise that the itch had disappeared.

*~*

“It is so _frustrating_ to watch!” Draco swiped his hand at the chess board before him, scattering Severus’ black chess pieces that he had captured already. “You can tell that he relaxes around us. It’s an actual visible, physical thing! I’ve seen him in public, and he always looks so tense, but when he’s with us, he’s comfortable enough to just let his guard down. _Why_ won’t he acknowledge it?”

Very calmly, Severus bent to retrieve the pieces strewn on the floor. He stood them on the side of the coffee table that sat between the two of them before returning to his seat. Placing his elbows on the edge of the table, he steepled his fingers, then rested his chin on them, studying the board.

“He relaxes around his friends.”

Pushing back from the table, Draco groaned. Biting down on his tongue, he only just prevented himself from swearing. This was a discussion he and Severus had had in the past. Perhaps it wasn’t Potter who was the clueless one? Perhaps it was them? Had they somehow mistaken the sensations? Was it even _possible_ to mistake the feeling of being bonded to someone? None of the text books they had found told them anything; they were all focussed on bonds between two people. Draco sighed.

“As you have told me over and over again. What of it?”

Severus was silent again for a few minutes, appearing to be focussed solely on his next move. His long, elegant fingers twitched a few times, but he made no move. The only other movement he made were his eyes flicking all over the board, obviously taking in the possible moves he could make and the consequences they would bring. By the time he was ready to move, Draco’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his patience wearing thin.

“We require a plan.” Severus raised his head to meet Draco’s eyes as he commanded one of his pieces to move.

Draco could hear the sound of one of his own pieces being destroyed, but he ignored it for the time being. “A plan?” Crossing his arms over his chest, he raised an eyebrow. “A plan for _what_?”

If Severus ever allowed himself to be so common as to shrug, Draco was certain that he would have done so right then. Leaning back against the rest of his chair, a slightly smug look crossed his face, turning his thin lips up at the corners. Draco’s eyes narrowed at the sight.

“We have two weeks until Beltane, yes?”

Draco choked. On what, he had no idea.

“You are making a plan to _seduce_ Harry Potter?” He blinked when Severus merely smiled at him. “Severus?”

It was not until the next morning that he got a proper response. Sitting at the kitchen table with Severus across from him, Draco nibbled on his slice of toast. He had tried all kinds of tactics to convince Severus to tell him what he was thinking. None of them had worked. Severus was as silent on the topic as he was on the war. His eyebrows drawing down as he watched Severus reading the morning paper, Draco attempted to come up with new ways of convincing him.

Sexual favours were out of the question. They had a regular and healthy sex life, so offering a blow job under the breakfast table was going to do nothing for him. Well, he reconsidered, allowing his mind to wander a little, nothing that would help with his current problem. Severus was too intelligent to fall for some of Draco’s slyer techniques of getting information out of people. Perhaps some of the more obvious ways would work, he considered. If Severus was watching for Draco to try to get more information out of him, then he wouldn’t expect it to be asked plainly. Draco nearly jumped when Severus folded the paper and met his eyes.

“What are your plans after the shop is closed for the day?”

His mind racing through reasons Severus could have for asking this, Draco placed his toast down and took a slow sip of tea. “It is Sunday. You know I prefer to just relax on Sunday afternoons.”

“Perfect.”

It was all Severus said. Standing, he placed his breakfast things in the sink before turning to rest his hips back against the counter. Draco’s eyes slid slowly up Severus’ long, black trouser-clad legs, which he had crossed casually at his ankles. It was a struggle for Draco to drag his eyes upward – he had always had a thing for long legs – but when he did meet Severus’ eyes, it was to find an amused expression there.

“Perfect for what?” he questioned, choosing to ignore the look. Standing, he moved to place his plate and cup in the sink as well. “Do you have plans?”

Severus’ hand grasped Draco’s elbow, preventing him from moving away. Draco automatically glanced up. The amused look had faded from Severus’ eyes, leaving Draco pinned by a gaze so intense he shivered.

“Seduction should not be required.” Severus’ voice was low, matching the look in his eyes. “Your mere presence beside me was enough to confirm my suspicions of what we share. We have been restricting contact with Harry in order to ‘give him space’, yes?”

Draco swallowed. “Yes.”

“May I suggest, then, that we try another tact?”

“You want to hang out in a bar?”

Severus’ grip tightened, drawing Draco closer to him. “What I want is for this to be resolved. One way or another, we _will_ seal this bond come Beltane.” He broke eye contact, dropping his gaze to Draco’s lips. “What I _want_ , Draco…”

He trailed off, but Draco could tell how the sentence was supposed to finish. Stepping closer, he tilted his head, offering the lips Severus was staring at so intently. The kiss held a touch of desperation to it. Their teeth clashed and Severus’ grip on Draco’s elbow began to hurt, but Draco knew that this is what Severus needed. Moving closer, he adjusted the angle, breaking Severus’ grip on him by wrapping his arms around Severus’ neck. When they separated, Draco was short of breath.

“ _That_ ,” he murmured into the small space between their lips, “is a brilliant plan.”

*~*

Harry was not usually late. Having spent the morning wandering the aisles of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, he was rushing to get to the pub by twelve, his usual Sunday opening time. Dodging around the people lining Diagon Alley, he tried to not bump any of them as he made his way swiftly to the bar. Spending the morning with Ron and George had gone a long way to recharging his batteries after that strange interaction with Draco Friday night. He shouldered the door open as soon as he got it unlocked and stepped up to the bar.

“It is unlike you to be tardy, Mister Potter.”

Harry’s hands froze above the float he was counting into the register. He allowed himself to enjoy the warmth that spread through him at the sound of Severus’ voice for a few seconds before continuing.

“And it’s very like you to point out that I’m late,” he responded as soon as he had the Knuts in their correct drawer. “Hello, Severus.”

“Good afternoon, Harry.”

Harry twitched as he heard a strange tone to Severus’ voice, but he had to concentrate if he was not going to screw up counting the money. Thankfully, Severus stayed quiet until he had finished. When he finally looked up, Severus was leaning back against the partition that closed the door of the staff entry to the bar away from the customers. His arms were crossed casually as he watched Harry work. A trickle of suspicion ran down Harry’s spine.

“Is something wrong?” His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “Where’s Draco?”

Harry could have sworn that he saw the corners of Severus’ mouth tilt up. The expression was gone as soon as he noticed it, though.

“Draco is closing the store. We are having lunch out today.”

It seemed like that was the only explanation he was going to receive, as Severus fell silent again the second some of Harry’s regulars entered the bar. Laughing and calling out to him, the three men all took their places at the opposite end of the bar, waiting for Harry to serve them their first beers of the day. Harry nudged the register closed with his hip, his attention still on Severus.

“What–”

“Your customers are waiting for you,” Severus interrupted him with a nod of his head towards the other end of the bar.

Reluctantly, Harry turned away. He found himself a little distracted as he served the beers. Severus had always had a commanding presence about him. Harry’s eyes kept sliding back to where Severus stood, even when new customers began to trickle in. Not even smiling and speaking to all of them as they entered was able to drag his attention fully away from Severus. It must have been a full half hour, Harry figured, before he was able to give Severus his full attention again. By then, Draco had arrived. Something jolted through Harry’s stomach as he turned just in time to see Severus place a hand on the small of Draco’s back and lean in to whisper something in his ear. His stomach flipped when Draco smiled.

“Your cook is in, right?”

Harry blinked. Draco stepped away from Severus and reached over the bar to grab a menu.

“Potter?”

Harry blinked again. “My cook?”

“Yes, Potter,” Draco responded slowly. “The one who cooks the food here. I’m hungry and do not want to have to trust _your_ cooking skills, if that is what they can be termed.”

“I – er – yes?” Harry responded, a frown beginning to form as confusion rushed through him. “You want to eat _here_?”

This was a new development. In the year that Severus and Draco had been frequenting his bar, they had never once even asked to see a menu. Instead, they had been content to just sit and drink with Harry outside of normal bar hours. It was a nice arrangement, as it helped Harry to wind down a bit after a long day. The fact that he felt most relaxed in their company – besides the Weasleys, of course – was something Harry refused to think on. Why their routine should be changing now, he had no idea. He found it a little disturbing.

“No, Potter,” Draco muttered, with a roll of his eyes. “I was going to take your menu to Fortescue’s and ask them to make me something.”

With that, he turned on his heel and marched over to the booth the three of them had shared Friday night. Severus followed silently a few seconds later without offering any kind of explanation. Not that Harry had expected him to.

A combination of nerves and something else – something undefinable – washed through Harry as he tried to go about his regular routine. Sunday lunch was a fairly busy time, although not as busy as the Friday nights always were. His skin tingled with awareness after about ten minutes and he glanced up. Severus was watching him from the booth, his hands folded in front of him. The hair on the back of Harry’s neck stood on end as he grabbed his notebook and pencil.

“Ready to order?” Harry could have quite happily stabbed himself with his pencil at the overly-cheerful tone to his voice. “Or do you need more time?”

As it was Draco who still held the menu, Harry kept his eyes on him. The nerves returned with a vengeance when Draco smiled vaguely up at him.

“What is on this?”

Harry swallowed down the rush of desire he felt as Draco raised his head to meet his eyes properly. Leaning closer, he frowned as he tried to remember just what went into making the Fisherman’s Basket.

“Australian prawns, calamari, fish fillet, and a serving of chips,” he rattled off as soon as he could force his brain to function properly again. “With your choice of either tartare or cocktail sauce.”

Draco hummed in response before pulling the menu away from Harry again. He ran one long, elegant finger down the choice of mains, pausing every now and then to read the description. Unable to help himself, Harry glanced over to Severus.

“Draco has always been a picky eater.”

The warmth to Severus’ voice caused Harry’s insides to clench. Dropping his gaze to the table top, he tried to get some form of control back over himself. He knew it was wrong of him to be feeling anything other than friendship for either Draco or Severus. But knowing that fact and actually putting it into action were two different things. He tried to smile politely when Draco cleared his throat.

“I think I might have the chicken schnitzel with a side of chips and salad,” he announced, placing the menu on the table in front of Harry. “And aioli sauce, if you have any.”

“And I shall have the steak, please, Harry,” Severus spoke before Harry could even turn to ask him his order. “Blue, with a side of vegetables. And two Guinness’.”

Harry tried to return to his regular routine after placing the orders with the cook, he really did. However, every time he glanced up, he met Severus’ eye, or caught a glimpse of Draco’s white-blond hair reflecting the sunlight coming through the windows. They were proving a bigger distraction than Harry had thought possible.

“Harry!”

He jumped. Maryann stood behind him, a frown on her face.

“I’ve been speaking to you for the past five minutes. Have you heard a word I said?”

Harry’s cheeks heated, although he was thankful for the excuse to drag his focus from Severus and Draco. “Sorry. I’ve been… distracted.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen.” When Harry only blushed harder, she rolled her eyes. “Look, I have orders here for booth three, a drinks order for table six, and there’s customers waiting to be served. Which do you want to do?”

Glancing around, Harry realised that he had managed to allow his distraction to drag him away from his work. Shaking his head, he apologised again and sent Maryann off with the orders for the booth and table. Trying to force himself to concentrate, he began serving the people waiting in line.

The afternoon passed without further incident. Harry’s stomach still swooped and his nerves still tingled every time he glanced over to where Severus and Draco sat, talking quietly together. But he did not allow that to distract him so badly again. He was doing such a good job of ignoring the fact that he wanted nothing more than to spend the afternoon watching the two of them, that he did not realise when they stood to make their way over to the bar.

“Thank you for the meal, Harry.”

The voice was low, but Harry’s attention was on Severus immediately. He stood just to the side of the bar, a small smile on his face.

“Not a problem,” Harry responded automatically, his ‘hospitality persona’ still firmly in place. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Surprisingly so.” Draco appeared by Severus’ side, sending another wave of nerves straight through Harry. “Fifteen Sickles and seven Knuts, right?”

“Er, yeah,” Harry responded, after a quick bout of mental math. “I’m glad you liked it, I–”

He almost stuttered to a stop, his heart beginning to thud against his ribcage. He did not know whether it was deliberate or not, but Draco had brushed his fingers over Harry’s palm as he placed the money in his hand. A jolt like a small electric shock seemed to travel the length of Harry’s arm, causing him to gasp and jerk his hand away. His skin heated and tingled as he met Draco’s eyes.

“See you tomorrow, Harry.”

*~*

For the next ten days, Severus and Draco made the effort to have one meal a day at Harry’s pub. Even when the pub was crowded over the weekend, they stopped in and ate sitting at the bar. By the tenth day – a Wednesday, three days before Beltane night – Harry’s nerves were almost completely shot.

The attraction he had seemingly always felt for the both of them was increasing with the amount of time they were spending at the bar. Harry had even begun to notice little things about the two of them that he had not noticed before. Things like Draco’s habit of drumming his fingers lightly on the surface of whatever was in front of him when Severus was distracted by something else. Or how his eye colour changed depending on his mood. Or even the fact that the very tips of his hair curled under where it touched the base of his neck. Severus had been no less of a distraction. His slight head tilts, and quirks of an eyebrow each told Harry a different story about his state of mind. When he lowered his head and stared up through the barrier of his eyelashes, it meant he was amused. When his head tilted to the right, he was paying close attention; when it was tilted to the left, however, he was annoyed. The partial raise of his right eyebrow meant disbelief.

Harry had almost unwillingly catalogued these quirks, ticks, and traits over the past week and a half. It wasn’t that he wanted to, either, but more of a compulsion. He knew that this level of obsession was not a good thing. He knew that Draco and Severus were in a committed relationship. But, it seemed that he was unable to just turn this part of his brain off. Every time the two of them entered the pub, they grabbed his attention and held it the entire time they were there.

It was with a bit of a shock, then, that he realised late on Wednesday night that neither of them had shown up. Wednesday nights were Quidditch nights at the pub, with Harry paying a large amount of money to project a magical livestream of the game onto a screen he had had set up specially. He had expected Draco to show up in his Puddlemere colours – as much as Draco allowed himself to do things like that, anyway – and sit the entire night at the bar, informing Harry that there wasn’t any chance that the Harpies would win. Rolling his shoulders, he glanced around, thinking maybe he had missed them entering.

“Harry!”

He glanced towards the door when he heard the shout. Ron and Hermione entered the pub cautiously, due to Hermione being nearly full-term with their first child. She smiled gratefully at him when he cleared off one of the chairs behind the bar so she could sit and watch the game in comfort.

“How’s she doing?”

Harry grinned as Hermione stared up at the screen, her eyes narrowed. “She’s scored twice already.”

Allowing himself to become distracted by questions about how Ginny was playing seemed the best course of action at that point in time. It prevented him from searching for Draco and Severus, and kept his mind off them. For a little while, at least.

Harry could feel himself relaxing as he laughed and joked with Ron and Hermione between serving his customers. It occurred to him that the only other time he ever felt this relaxed was when Draco and Severus stopped by after work to have a drink. He knew that thinking of them that way wasn’t something he should be doing, so he determined that he was simply going to stop it. People kept telling him that he was too stubborn for his own good, so maybe he could put that stubbornness to good use. Taking a seat beside Hermione towards the end of the night, he sighed.

“Long night?”

Rolling his shoulders and scrubbing a hand along the back of his neck, Harry smiled. “Long night, long week; long _month_ , really.” Arching his back and neck, he flexed his muscles, which had begun to ache. “Strange, too.”

“Mmm.” Harry glanced over when Hermione managed to make even that small noise sound worried. “Ron said that you’ve been spending more time with Severus and Draco?”

Harry nearly groaned. Flopping back into the chair, he ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I have.” He turned to see what was going on when she didn’t respond. “What?”

Hermione was silent for a little while longer, merely watching him, a small crease between her eyes. When she eventually spoke again, she sounded concerned.

“Harry…” She sighed and hoisted herself up higher in the chair. “Look, I know that this is none of my business. Ron’s always telling me to stay out of your love life, but–”

“Wait, stay out of my _what_?”

“Harry, Severus and Draco–”

“Hermione, I don’t _have_ a–”

“–are soul bonded.”

“–love life!”

Harry froze completely. The sounds of the bar and the screaming Quidditch fans seemed to fade into the background as Harry’s mind went absolutely blank.

“People with soul bonds must register with the Ministry, Harry. It is part of the Administrative Registration Department’s laws on soul bonds. It helps them to keep track of who is involved when one person tries to break a bond. I was part of that Department when Draco and Severus arrived to register.” When Harry did nothing other than stare into the middle ground between them, Hermione placed a hand softly on his arm. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

_A soul bond…_

Once Harry’s mind kicked back into gear, it began to race. Draco and Severus had started their shop about a year previously and had started coming into Harry’s pub around the same time. Reaching up to scratch his shoulder, he frowned.

“Stop that!”

Hermione smacked his hand lightly, moving it away from the spot that itched. It was then that it all fell into place. Harry’s eyes slid closed as he recalled all the times that he had felt better after spending the night drinking with Draco and Severus, all the times that their mere presence after a long day had helped him to relax; all the times that his skin had been fine after spending a few hours with them.

_The itch started a year ago…_

Throwing himself back against the chair, he groaned. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Well, now, I wouldn’t put it _that_ way,” Hermione started, but Harry was already rising to his feet. “Harry?”

Bending over, he grinned as he placed a kiss on the top of Hermione’s head. “You are a genius, Hermione. Never forget it.”

Calling to Ron and George, he bribed them to take over for him for the rest of the night, handed the keys over to Maryann with promises of explanations the next day and left the pub. A wide grin spread across his face as he Apparated to Wiltshire.

*~*

A loud thumping sound woke Draco. Groaning, he threw the covers over his head and tried to ignore it. The house he and Severus had purchased in Wiltshire was nowhere near as large as Malfoy Manor, meaning that sounds tended to echo through the _entire_ house, not just get swallowed up by the enormous lobby. Beside him, Severus let out a sound that was close to a growl.

“Unless you wish for me to be arrested for cursing whoever that is, I would suggest you get the door, Draco.”

Draco snorted. “The Ministry monitored me, too, after the war, you know.”

The thumping continued. Draco groaned again.

“Complaining about it shall not make it go away.”

“Oh, shut-up.”

Swinging the covers off himself, Draco had to grin when Severus yanked them back up. Groping around on the chair near the bed, he found his clothing from the previous day and threw it on. The thumping increased in intensity when Draco opened the bedroom door, reverberating through the house.

“You owe me for this, Severus,” he muttered as he left the room.

The chill April night air wrapped itself around him as he made his way through the dark house. Checking to make sure his wand was still in the thigh holster on his trousers, Draco paused in the hall. Casting a few charms told him that whoever was standing outside both was human and held no ill intentions towards whoever opened the door. That was as far as he could go with his investigation, though. No spell would allow him to tell who the person on the other side of the door was, sadly. With his hand on his wand, he took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Wha–”

Draco stumbled backward as a warm body hit his chest. There were no words said, just a sense of _right_ as a pair of lips crashed onto his. They struggled for a few seconds, Draco trying to right himself before they both ended up on the floor of the hallway. He failed. Pain coursed through his tailbone as he and the man in his arms fell to the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

“Harry…”

The word came out much breathier than Draco had intended. With his heart thudding in his ears, though, he was surprised that he managed a coherent word at all.

“I didn’t know, I swear. About… About you and Severus and… and…”

Harry trailed off. Unable to really make out Harry’s features in the darkened hall, Draco instinctively reached up to trace his cheekbone with his thumb. A soft huff of breath was the only response Harry made for a few seconds as he leant into the touch.

“Draco,” he whispered.

Swallowing down the mix of complicated emotions welling in his chest, Draco attempted to respond. When nothing came out of his mouth other than a slightly strangled sound, though, he gave up. Grasping hold of Harry’s hair, he pulled him forward again. All the months of tension, desperation, and worry seemed to come crashing down onto Draco all at once. Tightening his grip, he deepened the kiss.

Harry tasted of peanuts and strong black coffee. The scent of the bar clung to his skin and clothing, dragging forth memories of the past ten days. Severus’ plan, it seemed, had worked unbelievably well. As focussed as he was on Harry in his arms, Draco missed the soft sound of Severus’ footsteps until he was right behind them.

“Such a greeting to open the door to, Draco.” There was amusement to Severus’ voice, but it was nearly overshadowed by a strong tone of desire as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Is Draco to be the only lucky recipient?”

Draco had to hold back a whine as Harry broke apart from him. Severus had lit the tip of his wand, and the sight Harry presented before Draco absolutely took his breath away. With his pupils blown wide, his eyes hooded, and his lips red and slightly swollen where Draco had bitten them, he looked stunning.

“Severus…”

The desire laden in Harry’s voice was strong enough that Draco’s stomach clenched in response. Releasing his grip so Harry could move was difficult – he had waited an entire year for this moment, after all – but Draco knew Severus had waited just as long. It was worth the sacrifice. Harry moulded his body to Severus’ the second he was close enough. Severus’ hand went to the small of Harry’s back, holding him close as he connected their lips. This kiss was much slower and more controlled than the one he had shared with Harry. It sent desire coiling in the pit of Draco’s stomach.

“I didn’t know,” Harry gasped when Severus released him. “I didn’t realise…”

Severus hushed him with his lips and hands. Threading his fingers through Harry’s wild hair, he tilted his head back until their eyes met. Draco watched silently as the tension built between them.

“You are here now, Harry. _That_ is all that matters.”

Draco’s heart leapt as Severus beckoned him forward. Somehow, they managed to make it back up the stairs without injuring any one of them, although Draco did not remember how. He was too focussed on finally having Harry here with them, on finally being able to touch him the way he had been craving for the past year; on _finally_ being complete.

*~*

Midnight on Beltane was cloudy, with a wind that cut straight through the tailor-made, deep green robes Severus wore. He hardly noticed it, though. Not with two of the most highly desirable men in the entire wizarding world standing just steps from him, about to pledge to be joined with him for the rest of their lives.

“Severus?”

Smiling, Severus turned towards the sound of Draco’s voice. They stood in a line, Severus on one end, Draco on the other, with Harry safely between them. Severus had discovered that Draco was just as unwilling as he was to allow Harry too far out of their sight, after Harry’s apparently Granger-prompted revelation three nights previously. Not that Harry seemed to object too much, as he had been more than willing to stay and become better acquainted with the two of them. Severus nodded as Draco removed his wand from the holster on his thigh and raised it towards the first of the bonfires.

“We come before the Goddess on this, the holiest of nights,” Draco recited as he lit the bonfire closest to him. “We entreat the Goddess to come before us now and unite three into one.”

The bonfire burst into flaming life as Draco cast the charm. Severus was the next to step forward. He held his wand up to the second of the Beltane fires.

“We are three souls, three minds, connected by a bond closer than any other possible. We entreat the Goddess to come before us now and give her blessing for our union.”

The second of the Beltane fires lit with a loud _whoosh_ as Severus cast his charm. He could hear his heart hammering in his chest as Harry stepped forward. Not having a wand made of any wood associated with Beltane – unlike Draco’s hawthorn and Severus’ ash – he did not play a part in the actual lighting of the fires. Although, his, to Severus, was the most important part.

“Three souls, three minds joined together by the blessing of the Goddess,” Harry intoned. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and began casting the bonding spell. “As we travel through this life, we entreat the Goddess to walk with us, guide us, and protect us as she protects all her children.”

A wave of deep red magic issued from the tip of Harry’s wand, swirling all around the forest clearing they stood in. Severus heard Draco gasp as the magic settled on their skin, but he was too focussed on the second part of the ritual to pay too much attention.

“We entreat the Goddess,” Severus repeated at the same time as Draco and Harry. “Come forth and give this union your blessing.”

Reaching out, Severus grasped Harry’s outstretched hand. Draco held Harry’s other hand and, together, they stepped through the Beltane fires. The wave of magic that had settled over their skin intensified as the blessing took hold. Severus stopped moving and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of the magic washing over his skin. Harry’s hand clenched in his, his only anchor to the real world. He swayed a little as the intensity of the magic ebbed.

“Severus?”

Draco’s voice seemed far away as Severus reopened his eyes. Remnants of the bonding magic floated through the air, highlighting everything around in a scarlet red. It tinted Draco’s pale hair and white robe a light pink, lending warmth to his equally pale skin. The red reflections in Harry’s glasses hid his eyes from Severus’ sight, but he knew from the tightness of his grip that he was feeling just what Severus was at that moment: relief.

“Come here.”

Severus Vanished all of their robes as they made their way over to the camp bed they had set up earlier in the evening. The last part of their bonding was something he had very much been looking forward to. Turning as he reached the bed, he dragged Draco forward.

“I love you,” he whispered in the second before their lips met in a soft kiss.

Draco hummed into the kiss in response, but kept moving, not allowing Severus to distract him from his obvious goal of the bed. Severus chuckled as Draco lay down in the middle of the bed and stretched his arms above his head. He made a beautiful sight in the remnants of the bonding magic. Harry stepped forward then, his hand landing on Severus’ hip. When Severus met his eyes, it was to see all the pent-up desire that he had come to associate with Harry over the past year, only this time, it was reflected back to him.

Harry’s kisses held all the heat of the Beltane fires. Not just through the physical heat of his body, either, but in the passion and need behind the kiss as well. Severus could easily become lost in those kisses, he knew. Not that night, however. He gently extracted Harry from himself and guided him down onto the bed to lie on the opposite side of Draco.

Draco turned on his side seemingly instinctively, facing Harry. Arching his back, he offered himself to Severus before leaning forward to claim Harry’s lips. Severus smiled as he lay down and ran his hands over Draco’s body. As impatient and demanding as Draco could be – both in bed and out – it was one of the things that Severus loved so deeply about him. Murmuring the preparation charms only took a few seconds and, as always, Draco responded wonderfully. Bending his knee, he raised his leg, allowing Severus access.

“Draco…”

“Please, Severus, I need you… Please…”

Severus met Harry’s eyes over Draco’s shoulder. The break in the kiss had given Harry the time to conjure some lubricant.

“Oh, believe me, I am more than happy here,” he stated, his voice rougher than usual. “I’m claiming you next time, though.”

Draco did not allow any more conversation. Arching his back again, he pressed back into Severus, who was quite willing to oblige. Moving together, they sealed their bond completely beneath the clouds, surrounded by the remnants of the bonding magic. When they lay together, spent and exhausted, Severus cold only wonder at the magic that had brought these two men to him. He silently sent up thanks to the Goddess as he settled in to sleep beside his bond mates.


End file.
